


Take the World

by HarpforHim



Series: From Kenobi’s Point of View [9]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Baby Luke Skywalker, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Obi-Wan and Satine get married and raise Luke, Obi-Wan has PTSD, Obitine, PTSD, Post Order 66, Satine has a bit of PTSD too, Satine just wants to help, Satine never dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26499388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarpforHim/pseuds/HarpforHim
Summary: In a world where Satine never dies, she finds herself married to the man of her dreams, raising the son of her husband's fallen brother. Obi-Wan continues to wrestle with his actions on Mustafar, finding it hard to open up to anyone, even his wife. As they navigate the galaxy together, old friends and foes appear along the way, forcing them to battle their own inner demons. MajorAU
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze
Series: From Kenobi’s Point of View [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021438
Comments: 41
Kudos: 117





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome all! Someone suggested that I cross post from FanFiction.Net, so here I am! I hope you all enjoy, and yes, I do intend on finishing this story. That being said, I have no clue where it’s headed! XD So, this might be a bumpy ride, folks!

_**Satine** _

She couldn't recall a darker day.

Three years of galactic civil war and political unrest on Mandalore were nothing but dust in the wind compared to _this._ It was almost enough to keep her tucked in bed for the rest of her miserable life.

Almost.

Her slippered feet made their way reluctantly across the plush carpet, alerting no one to her presence. Silky blonde curls tumbled lightly upon satin laden shoulders. She smiled despite it all.

Padme's clothes had fit for the most part, but Satine felt as though she was already imposing too much without continuing to share the young senator's wardrobe.

Besides, she had missed the individuality of her own personal style during those first weeks.

_Refugees aren't supposed to be stylish,_ she reminded herself grimly as she pulled the final pin, releasing the last of her curls from their prison. _And Obi likes me no matter what colors I'm wearing._

The mere thought of her Jedi yanked her back to the present. The horrible, awful present from which none of them seemed able to escape.

She had to physically force herself not to glance out the window—she could smell the smoke and ash all-too-well without letting her eyes fall once again on the flaming Temple.

_Oh, Obi…_

How had everything gone so wrong? Even during the war, which she'd so despised, there was always hope, a steadfast anchor to cling to in the midst of all the killing. Dozens of Jedi and clone troopers had been on their side. As well as the Republic.

Satine paused, hands freezing in her hair mid-style.

Compared to this newly established Empire, life in the Republic had been bliss.

She had always held fast to neutrality, even after her knight in shining red Mandalorian armor had whisked her away from the clutches of Maul and Death Watch.

And even while Padmé had been kind enough to hide her in the complex folds of her Coruscant apartment, Satine had retained her ideals, hoping she could still be of some influence in the senate on behalf of her planet.

But those goals lived only in her distant memory now.

It wasn't until the rise of the Empire and the storming of the Temple by the very soldiers who swore to protect the Jedi they fired upon that Satine began to recognize the benefits of a Galactic Republic, even if it could never hope to be united.

_It wasn't perfect, but it was a democracy._

_It was_ _**free.** _

Several moments passed in a deafening silence before she was able to rise from the vanity and dress for the day—the first full day of Palpatine's Empire.

How could there be any hope of repairing her home planet now? After all, she was nothing more than a political refugee these days. And what sort of Mandalore would take shape in this new empire?

Though her sister had never been much of a politician, she was a strong leader. Satine forced herself to breathe. The planet was in good hands for now. It didn't need her, not yet, but there was someone else who did.

A dear friend who's life was tearing apart at the seams, crumbling to ash faster than anyone could even begin to repair it.

Clad only in a simple lavender day dress, Satine glided down to the main balcony, where she knew she would find Padmé.

_The poor dear probably hasn't left it since late last night._

Last night… When Skywalker had shown up; when the Temple had been set ablaze.

When the last of the world as she knew it had dissolved forever.

Because it was the balcony that lended Padmé a full view of the Coruscant skyline—of any possible speeders that might dock unexpectedly, in which might sit her wayward husband.

Satine was no fool. She knew Skywalker had broken the rules; she couldn't have lived for so many months in his wife's apartment _without_ knowing sooner or later.

She only wished another Jedi might have taken the leap of faith as well, might have broken a few rules for _her…_

_No. This isn't about you. This is about Padmé._

_Oh, show me how to help you,_ Satine pleaded briefly before stepping out into the fresh morning air. Even if she couldn't find the right words to say, she could at least sit at her friend's side and bleed silent comfort with her mere presence.

She could simply _be_ there.

"You're going to kill him, aren't you?"

Padmé's question stopped her just short of the marble pillars.

_What?_

A long pause fogged the once fresh air with a tension so suffocating, Satine had to fight to keep from choking.

Then, _he_ spoke, his warm, familiar tone dripping with rare emotion.

"He has become a very great threat."

The words were carefully chosen, revealing nothing outright, but their implications were clear as kyber.

When the time came, Obi-Wan would do what he must.

"I can't."

There was no doubt now in Satine's mind as to who they spoke of, the only question now was _why?_

A soft rustle of fabric indicated Obi-Wan's impending departure and her heart began to race. She wanted so desperately to run into his arms, to be held and to hold. To never let go again.

But he had his own life and she had hers, however fractured they both might be, and she couldn't stand in the way of what he had to do.

Whatever that might be.

Just when she thought the coast was clear, Obi-Wan's voice echoed one last time over the veranda, a dull pain drowning the remainder of his subtlety.

"Anakin's the father, isn't he?"

Padmé's silence spoke volumes.

"I'm so sorry."

A low flush of engines starting filled the distant air, and then he was gone.

A breath. Another. Then: _Why must it all fall apart so quickly, so easily?_

Caught up in her thoughts, Satine barely registered a flustered Padmé brush past her.

"Padmé…" she breathed, following the expectant mother back into the apartment.

She had known even before Anakin of her friend's pregnancy, but it was only not that the concept finally became real to her.

"I have to go," was all the reply she received.

"Where?"

No response.

"Padmé, I'm only here to help, you know this."

For the briefest of moments, Padmé paused her preparations. "I know." Her lips trembled. "And I'm grateful. But there's nothing you or Obi-Wan can do now. Only I can get through to him. Take care of the apartment for me? I… I don't know how soon I'll be back."

Satine nodded, any words she might have said caught in a ball at the bottom of her throat. Travel outfits and necessities flew into several bags with reckless abandon, and it took a moment for Satine's mind to urge her into helping Padmé pack.

They worked in silence, neither voicing their worries or their concerns; both already knowing quite well what the other would say.

It all happened so fast, and soon the former duchess was left alone to piece together a comprehensible explanation for that morning's events. Something, _anything_ , that could make sense of it all for her.

She needed logic, she needed _answers_.

And everyone who might be able to give them to her had gone.

And she was alone again.

Alone.

"Be safe." Those were to be her last words to the kind Senator from Naboo. "Be safe."

Not "thank you for everything," or "you've been such a dear friend to me, Padmé."

No…

But life rarely gives a warning, and one never truly knows when their last moments with someone might be.

So, Satine didn't think much of the exchange, in which Padmé had responded with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Instead, she took action, her natural-born leadership skills taking the controls.

As she swept about the room, packing what little she owned and changing into her usual pink top and pants, she took a moment to dial a number she'd only ever seen Padmé and Obi-Wan use, which explained the senator's confusion when her voice filtered through the comlink.

"Senator Organa," she began, leaving no room for the basic greetings, "Master Kenobi and Padmé... They seem to trust you a great deal."

"Who is this? How did you get a hold of Padmé's comm?"

"That's not important at the moment."

"What about Obi-Wan and Padmé?" His voice was stressed, uncertain, and worried.

A beat as Satine glanced out the window at the still smoking Temple. "I think they're in trouble. And I need your help."

"Give me ten minutes. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Satine could've cried. "Thank you."

Jamming a few more necessities into her suitcase—this time, items belonging to Padmé and Anakin—Satine forced herself to breathe.

She was, after all, Duchess Satine of Mandalore. Or, rather, she used to be…

And she could handle anything as long as she was prepared.

* * *

She would never be prepared for death. No matter how many times it circled around her, claiming the ones she loved, the action would come as a shock every time.

"But she can't be dying!" Satine had exclaimed to the room of solemn men. "Did you all not just hear the nurse? Her vitals are intact; she's in perfect health!"

Obi-Wan hadn't replied and she found it a difficult task to recall a time in which she witnessed such raw emotion play across his handsome features.

She'd followed him silently into the chamber where her friend lay, dying from some unknown force. She'd watched blankly, her soul in turmoil, as Obi-Wan begged Padmé to stay alive, to push through the pain.

To think of her children, who so desperately needed her.

Then, clutching the second of the surprise set of twins against his chest, Obi-Wan had pleaded one last time.

She had never seen him plead before, either. It was a chilling sight, only serving to remind her of just how far everything had fallen.

"Do something." Her own voice was a strangled whisper now, and she tightened her hold on the first twin. Luke, Padmé had called him. "Obi, do _something_."

But he didn't, he couldn't. Neither of them could.

Because no matter how mighty, or how strong, no man or woman has the power to resurrect the dead.

The next few minutes swirled by in a blur. Bail was there, and Master Yoda, but Satine couldn't comprehend their words.

It was only when Obi-Wan's gentle hand brushed the tears from her cheeks that she noticed them. It was only then that she realized he had given one of Padmé's precious children to Bail.

"Hidden, safe, the children must be kept," Yoda was saying. "Split up, they should be."

"My wife and I will take the girl." Satine glanced at Bail, who clutched Leia to his chest. "We've always talked about adopting a baby girl. She will be loved with us."

Yoda only nodded.

"And what of the boy?" Satine heard her own voice through the dense fog of grief.

"I will take the child and watch over him," Obi-Wan solemnly volunteered.

Her breath hitched.

Again, Yoda nodded, but this time, Satine could not remain silent.

"Does this boy not deserve a loving family like his sister?"

Blue eyes aged far beyond their years fell slowly upon her own. Searching, knowing, hoping.

"Hmm," Yoda grunted, jutting his glimmer stick against the ship's floor. "Until the time is right, disappear we will. Until the time is right, no more, the Jedi Order is. No more, the rules are."

His arm was around her shoulders in an instant, sending waves of comfort and security into her heart.

And for the third time in her life, she dared to hope.

As a young woman—a girl, really—she'd dared to hope.

As a duchess rescued from the hands of terrorists, she dared to hope.

And now, holding that precious babe in her arms with her shining knight at her side, she dared to hope one last time.

Because if her hopes failed her now, she could never hope again.

But he said nothing.

The Great Negotiator, they all called him, and he said nothing.

Yoda rose from his chair after a few moments and hobbled towards the door. Then, he paused, glancing back at Obi-Wan with an all-knowing expression on his shriveled green face.

"Master Kenobi. In your exile, wherever it may be, training, I have for you."

"Training?"

"An old friend has learned the path to immortality. One who has returned from the netherworld of the Force..." He smiled. "Your old master."

She felt a jolt of surprise rippled through him, matching that of her own.

"Qui-Gon?"

Yoda nodded. "How to commune with him, I will teach you. Until come, the time does, may the Force be with you. Both of you."

Only when the Jedi Master disappeared through sliding doors, Bail at his heels; only when she was alone with Obi-Wan, her dear Obi-Wan, did Satine allow hope to rekindle once more.

Into a flame, it grew and grew until she could contain it no longer.

"Obi...?"

Strong hands cupped her shoulders and she found herself with no place to look but into his eyes.

And it was the eyes that solidified her hope at long last.

"It won't be easy," he told her.

"When is it ever?"

"And I might be too late. Far too late…"

"You're never too late."

"But," his voice shook ever so slightly, his oceanic orbs glistening, "will you raise this child with me, Satine Kryze? Will you…marry me?

She was nodding before he had even finished. Her throat was too tight to speak at first, and she was too overjoyed to form a single coherent sentence.

"Yes," she said finally as tears trickled down her flushed cheeks. "I thought you would never ask."

"And I'd always hoped that one day," he responded, smiling, "I _would_."


	2. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for such positive and encouraging reviews so far! It makes the writing that much more enjoyable. :)

_**Satine** _

The wedding had been pure bliss. A beautiful, unrestrained display of love and devotion.

And she had kissed him at long last. Oh, how she had _kissed_ him! And he'd kissed her, a sensation she hadn't ever dared to dream she might experience.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had warped his arms about her and kissed her with a long hidden passion of which she never thought him capable.

A little-known establishment in the underbelly of Alderaan had married them without fuss or questions. The rings were far from spectacular, but they were _theirs_ ; they were one now.

One love, one being.

United against a crumbling galaxy.

And no one could ever take him away from her again.

Thumbing the gold band reverently, she leaned over and kissed him again. Lightly this time, careful not to wake him. They were both exhausted, mentally and physically, from the events of the last few days, but no matter how fiercely the claws of fatigue clung to her, she knew they grasped ten times tigheter to her husband.

Her _husband_.

As she drew back, the baby shifted between them, snuggling closer into her chest, a small attempt to find warmth.

She shivered before wrapping an arm around him. The refugee ship had departed from Alderaan less than five standard hours ago, in the dead of night, which was just as well. They were safe and secluded, yes, but nothing near warm—the interior of the ship had maintained its chill since the very start of their journey.

With the babe settled against her chest, she inched closer to Obi-Wan, pulling the thin blanket higher and closing her eyes once more.

That's when it began. First, a low moan, something Satine didn't think too much about; next, a sharp hiss followed by another groan.

Then he jolted, mumbling a handful of names.

It was Anakin's that captured her attention.

"Obi?" she whispered, cautiously reaching out to touch his shoulder. "Obi, wake up."

A shudder wracked his crumpled frame.

Satine pressed harder.

"Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan, wake—"

A strangled gasp split the night and his eyes snapped open. "Anakin!"

It took a single, tortured moment for him to remember his surroundings, a moment in which she was forced to watch the painful emotions dance plainly across his face before they disappeared altogether.

"Obi? Are you all right?"

His only reply came from his sleep-glazed eyes as they roamed the surface of the bed, rapid and worried. It was only when they successfully located both the baby and Satine herself that they calmed, though the change was miniscule.

"Sorry," he croaked at long last, leaning his head back down against the pillow. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"No," she whispered firmly. "No, we're not playing that game, Obi. I'm your wife, don't you remember? I'm here for you, and I have no plans to break the promise I made to you at that altar."

He closed his eyes and for a minute, Satine wondered if he'd fallen back to sleep.

"No."

"No?" she repeated softly. "No...what?"

A grim smile tugged at his lips as he gazed upon her once more. "You asked if I was all right… No, I don't think I am."

His honesty was a thing she'd always treasured, but that didn't make the confession any easier to hear.

"Are you?" he continued, resting a hand on Luke's tiny head.

_Was she?_

"No," she whispered. "I don't think so. Not yet…" She offered him her bravest smile. "But I will be."

He nodded.

"Your dream," she pressed after a short pause. "What was it about?"

"Something I had hoped I wouldn't ever have to see again." A mirthless chuckle bubbled within his throat. "What a foolish notion."

"Some things one never forgets," she probed. "But that doesn't mean they are incapable of healing."

"And… if they don't?"

"You will. In time."

"Time." Another smile, less forced this time. "Well, we have plenty of that, don't we."

She squeezed his hand tightly. "An entire lifetime."

As they settled back into sleep, hand in hand, she realized she didn't need answers right now. She had a whole life to learn about him, to help him heal, and in return he would help _her_ heal.

They would have each other, and that would be enough.

* * *

_**Obi-Wan** _

The boy wouldn't stop crying.

_I hate you!_

Obi-Wan shivered, trying desperately to consol the youngling.

Nothing he did seemed to work.

_From my point of view the_ _**Jedi** _ _are evil!_

"Shh… Shh…"

_I will do what I must._

He held Luke closer, fearing the baby might disappear if he didn't hold on tight.

If he didn't do something to make him happy again.

_You underestimate my powers!_

"Shh… Don't cry." He swayed gently from side to side, glancing about anxiously for Satine before turning back to the child.

"I love you," he whispered, as if the confession might somehow soothe Luke's screams. "I love you, don't cry. Please, don't cry."

The words felt foreign on his tongue and he realized, not for the first time, that he hadn't uttered them enough. In all his thirty-eight years, Obi-Wan could count on one hand how many times he'd said those three small words.

Twice to Satine.

Once to Qui-Gon, maybe? He couldn't remember.

Twice now to Luke.

And once to Anakin.

Only _once_ and in the past tense.

_I hate you!_

_I loved you…_

Perhaps if he'd only told the boy more often, made him more aware of it, taking any doubt or guesswork out of the equation.

_But you didn't. You old fool, you never told him how much he meant to you. You assumed he knew, assume they all knew._

Qui-Gon, Ahsoka, and for a time, Satine.

Luke squirmed again, heaving for a breath before crying out, louder this time.

"You'll never doubt it," he whispered. "I won't let you. I won't let you go a single day without knowing how much a care about you, precious child."

Even at this young age, Obi-Wan could see Anakin in the small face.

It was something he would have to find a way to get past, to be able to gaze at Luke without being overcome by bad memories.

Without drowning in the _good_ memories, which had already proved themselves capable of being the most painful memories of all.

"What's the matter?"

Satine's lovely voice sent waves of relief pulsing through his veins.

"Your guess is as good as mine, perhaps better."

"Here, I'll trade you."

In exchange for the screaming child, Obi-Wan was handed their new letters of transit and their single travel bag, which held all their remaining possessions.

Well, everything they hadn't left with Bail on Alderaan.

"Keep them for us, will you?" Obi-Wan had requested the night of their departure. "That way, we'll be sure to return someday."

Bail had grinned, an expression of hope shining on his face. "You'd better, or else I'll be forced to go out and make an effort to find new friends."

New friends. They had all lost so many over the last three years, including Bail.

And Obi-Wan didn't plan on ending their friendship anytime soon.

"Don't you dare, Senator," he'd responded with a tight grin.

"And don't you dare forget about your comm, Master Jedi. I'll always be a call away."

"I won't forget, Bail. And thank you, for everything."

Bail had only clasped Obi-Wan's arm and nodded. "Be safe."

Safe. Satine had shrunk back at those words for some reason Obi-Wan had yet to unearth.

He'd placed her reaction on the back-burner, where it had sat unattended ever since.

In less than a minute, Satine had Luke calmed and quiet.

"How…?"

She smirked. "All he needed was a female touch. Oh, don't feel too left out, you'll have plenty of chances to hold a screaming baby."

"Oh good. I was getting concerned there for a moment."

"Come on," she beckoned, her smirk melting into a found smile. "The next ship leaves in less than ten minutes and unless you want to sit in the very back— _again_ —I suggest we pick up the pace."

"Whatever you say, Duchess."

As they climbed the dirt-stained ramp, hoods up, Obi-Wan began to wonder if being in the back wasn't as bad as they'd thought. There were certainly less people, fewer prying eyes…

"Oh my!"

Obi-Wan forced his body not to start at the sudden cry. A quick glance about revealed a middle-aged woman with premature graying hair, her arms outstretched expectantly.

"Your baby is simply _adorable!_ "

"Thank you," Satine said gracefully and he didn't miss the way she clutched the babe tighter. "We're very grateful."

"May I hold him? Her, him?"

"Him," Obi-Wan interjected, "and no."

Her face fell.

"He has a virus." He flashed a tight smile. "I wouldn't want you to catch it."

She backed away immediately, her revulsion obvious. "I… hope he gets better soon."

"The feeling is mutual, I assure you."

The second she was out of earshot, Satine's eyes were on him.

"And what, might I ask, was that?"

Dare he ever try to confess what he wasn't entirely sure of himself?

_Do or do not, there is no try._

So, with a deep breath, he _did_.

"I didn't want her to hold him."

She adjusted Luke in her arms. "And why ever not?"

"I...don't know."

Her eyes softened and he felt as though she could dive into his soul at any moment to heal all his wounds.

"Oh. Well," she smiled, "I can't say I wouldn't have done the same."

"Here," he said after a few minutes, "let me take him. You rest now."

"I'm all right."

"I insist."

"Really, Obi, I'm fine."

"Fine then." With a smirk, he wrapped her in his arms and flung her gently into his lap as he sat down. "I'll just have to hold both of you."

"Obi!" She laughed. "Stop it, you'll draw too much attention!"

"No one here cares, darling. They're too busy with themselves to notice us. Besides, you've been carrying that baby since early this morning. It's time for you to relax and let yourself be held for a change."

To his delight, she snuggled closer to his chest.

"I'll wake you when they start serving dinner," he promised, at which she grinned knowingly.

"Unless Luke beats you to it."

"Yes, I suppose there's always that possibility. Still, one can only hope."

She hummed, settling into a light sleep.

Leaving Obi-Wan alone to battle his thoughts.

_I hate you!_

The shouting voice echoed throughout his mind, merciless and unrelenting.

It left him wondering when exactly it all began to go wrong. When had their relationship started to spiral?

Was it when he'd asked Anakin to spy on the Chancellor? Had the fracture begun with the return of Ahsoka? The departure of Ahsoka? Or did it trace all the way back to their apprenticeship?

_Was I too harsh? Too lenient?_

Perhaps it went back even further. Perhaps it began with the death of Qui-Gon.

_Qui-Gon…_

He'd known from the very beginning that he could never be Qui-Gon for Anakin, that his authority would only go so far. After all, they had always been more like brothers than father and son, especially as Anakin had continued to grow.

But how had they gone from brothers to enemies in so short a time?

It boggled his mind, and dwelling on it only made matters worse.

_Show me where I failed you… Oh, if only you could show me where I failed you._

_I might have failed you, Anakin, but I_ _ **won't**_ _fail your son._

_I promise._

_I promise…_


	3. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly shorter than the last two, but I am having trouble with Obi-Wan's part and I wanted to give you guys an update.
> 
> As usual, I don't own anything. :) And if any if you have something in mind that you want to see in this novel, or characters you want me to bring back, just let me know in the comments and I'll see about fitting them into the story. Thank you all!

_**Vader** _

The mask was hell.

It hurt to breathe, hurt to move, hurt to _think._

_You were my brother, Anakin!_

Dark gloves clenched tight, mercilessly straining at the mechanics they disguised so well.

_I loved you._

And he _hated him._ More than he ever thought himself capable.

More than _Obi-Wan_ ever thought him capable.

But the old man had underestimated his powers…again.

His thoughts raged almost as fiercely as the fire inside him as he made his way to the bridge, carving paths of fear and respect along the way.

_He took everything from me. My life, my limbs, my very_ _**breath.** _

_My trust._

_My wife._

_Padmé…_

That was the only good thing that came from the mask, he supposed.

No one could see the tears that burned down his charred cheeks. No one was privy to the horrid way his face contorted in pain.

No one… when once, there was someone who knew his every expression—almost his every _thought._

_Obi-Wan…_

Teeth grinding, he pressed on, covering the vast distance easily with long, artificial strides.

He was going to pay. One way or another, he would make sure of it.

Because the man he once called brother had taken everything from him.

All but his mind.

And his mind was a sharp weapon, calculating, relentless.

Waiting for the right moment to swoop in for the kill.

_Wait until it happens to you, Master._

_Just you wait._

He needed him to know what it felt like to have it all ripped from his fingers, pried from the very palms that bleed trying to protect it.

Because Obi-Wan had robbed him of everything he once held dear.

And Vader was ready and aching for revenge.

* * *

_**Satine** _

Another night, another nightmare.

And he was just as reticent about it this time as he'd been the last time.

What happened on Mustafar remained a mystery to her still, but he saw the gory details every night in his dreams, of this she had no doubt—the dark rings under his eyes wouldn't let him hide the fact.

"Are you certain the next transport isn't leaving until tomorrow afternoon?"

His voice pulled her out of her thoughts and she smiled. She would never get tired of watching him hold that baby. He was so gentle, so soft and kind.

And she knew he would make a perfect father.

"Unfortunately, yes," she replied, not liking how his face fell. The change was subtle, but over the years, she had become an expert at detecting hidden Kenobi subtleties.

He had a right to be concerned, though. This was their longest layover yet, and as he'd told her many times before, anything can happen overnight.

_Shall I tell you what_ _**I** _ _hope will happen overnight, darling?_

Instead of giving her secret desires a voice, she adjusted Luke, smirked seductively, and then followed Obi-Wan out of the transport hub and into the blinding sun of Zeltros.

Besides the small cluster of refugees, the crowded throng consisted mostly of humanoids, a showcase of colors that could only be described as tropical. Pinks and reds of all shades abounded, contrasted sharply by dark blue or brown hair—and sometimes a very light pink.

Weaving in and out among the Zeltrons, Satine couldn't help but feel very conservative. While she was clad in the same lavender and white fit tunic she'd donned back on Alderaan, she felt grossly overdressed compared to the planet's natives.

She tucked her cloak tightly around Luke, who'd just begun to fuss.

"What was that you mentioned earlier about not drawing attention to ourselves?" She whispered, knowing Obi-Wan had no doubt noticed the way some of the locals stared unashamedly at them as they passed by.

"Don't stare back," he warned and she felt the warmth and protection of his arm sliding around her shoulders.

"I wasn't, but it _is_ kind of difficult not to look at them. They're everywhere."

"Well, my dear, this is their planet after all." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Nevertheless, I'll feel more at ease once we find someplace to stay."

"That might pose a bit of a problem…"

They weren't the words she had been expecting him to say, but as she followed his gaze, her heart sank.

The main city complex wasn't much more than an array of casinos and taverns, littered with the rare diner or cafe.

"Well…" she began, trying to sound positive. "Dinner?"

"Where?" He replied with a smirk. "Shall we try Malindi's Pleasure Cafe? Or would you suggest Zeke's Glut and Gamble?"

Her stomach did a half twist. None of the options he'd listed were appealing, and the other signs she noticed didn't sound much better.

"Perhaps we can find a hotel with room service?"

"Darling," Obi-Wan said with a grimace, "I believe the cafes _are_ the hotels."

"Surely not all of them—" But he was nodding before she could finish.

_Of course._

"I suggest," he began, gently taking Luke from her in order that her aching arms might have a reprieve, "we pick the least atrocious cafe and endure it the best we can."

"Sounds lovely. After all, we've both been through worse, haven't we?"

Shadows fell over his eyes for a brief moment, vanishing before she could comment on them. "Very true."

Taking his outstretched elbow, she let him lead her into the cleanest looking restaurant—clean in every sense of the word.

And even then, the establishment could have just as easily been a permanent fixture in the underbelly of Coruscant instead of one of the finest cafes on Zeltros.

As a scantily clothed Zeltron showed them to their seats, Satine found her free hand closing tighter around her husband's arm.

_He's mine,_ she nearly blurted, resenting the way the waitress eyed Obi-Wan. But she was more refined than that. And the ring on her finger served as a reminder that she had nothing to worry about.

No one could take him away from her.

Not again.

"Satine."

He was calling her name, waiting for her to respond.

She snapped to attention. "Hmm?"

"I'm guessing this menu has you just as lost as it has me?"

A smile graced her lips. "Honestly, I haven't even looked at it yet."

"Don't bother." She shook his head. "I'll ask the waitress for her suggestions when she returns. Maybe she can make sense of… _this_."

While adjusting Luke in her arms, she took a quick glance at the menu. There was a section in Basic, but none of the options were familiar to her in the slightest.

"I got food poisoning once on a mission with Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan commented lightly, sliding the menus off to the side, his mouth barely concealing a smirk. "I'm not going to do it again. And I'd certainly hate for it to happen to you. Or the baby…"

A far-off expression took over his face as his eyes locked onto Luke.

"Obi-Wan…?" It was barely audible, but she found it difficult to raise her voice any higher. A lump made its way into her throat and she forced herself to swallow. "Obi…"

"Perhaps…" He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from Padmé's child. "Perhaps you shouldn't call me by that name. At least, not in public. Not where others can hear…"

"Why not?" Satine didn't quite care for the strange way her pulse had begun to race. "No one is after us…"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Why do you think we've been traveling as refugees?"

"Because we are," she replied, her confidence beginning to wane.

" _Because_ ," he pressed, keeping his voice down, "we can't let Palpatine find Anakin's children. Because all the Jedi were supposed to have been destroyed. Don't you remember what Master Yoda said? We have to go into hiding."

"Who's going to be looking for us on Zeltros? I hadn't even heard of this planet until today. And besides, don't you think the Empire has better things to do right now than chase down the last Jedi?"

An odd, defensive look flared up suddenly in his eyes. "I'm not the last Jedi."

"And I'm not worried about this." She shook her head. "Honestly, Obi, I think you're just paranoid."

"Paranoid? I'm being _cautious_."

"At the expense of your name?"

"It's just a name, Satine, it doesn't mean anything, and if by simply not using it I can—"

"It does to me!" She hissed, shocked at the sudden emotion rising in her voice. They didn't see eye-to-eye on this topic, she could tell by the clear look of confusion painted across his face.

But how could she convey the true magnitude of her feelings to him in a way he could understand? That every time his name rolled off her tongue, a love blossomed in her chest so strong she feared it might suffocate her. That the mere utterance of his name sent her spiraling through a glittering tunnel of memories, of moments frozen in time—the happiest moments of her life.

Every moment in which his dazzling blue eyes gazed down into hers.

No, she could never put into words this feeling, and never in a way he'd understand. It was a feeling she barely understood herself. So beautiful was it, so delicate and precious…

"Satine," he sighed, glancing about as if to make sure no one was listening in on their little disagreement, "this is ridiculous. Look, I know what you must be feeling, but I told you this wouldn't be easy. Using my name in public at such a time as this is just like walking into the line of fire."

Satine stiffened. "I wish you wouldn't use such metaphors."

"Was it effective?"

_Really, he has the audacity to smirk?_

She set her jaw, matching his firm gaze with one of her own. "Very."

"Then it's settled. When we're out in public, you can call me… Ben."

"And you can call me unimpressed." Her tone was fierce, but try as she might, she couldn't control the laugh that bubbled up from her throat. "Ben? Honestly, how ever did you think of _that_?"

To her relief, he returned her grin. "It was an old undercover name of mine. I thought it would suit our situation well."

"Very true. Well then, _Ben_ , shall we order? Or do you want to starve your wife and child?"

Another grin, though it was dimmer this time. "Never."

"Then why don't you call over our waitress and see if she can't decipher these entreés for us."


	4. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all those who were wanting to see what was on the menu... well, the story took a different turn than I was expecting. We’re in for some drama people. XD

_**Obi-Wan** _

Of all the possible scenarios he'd found himself picturing they would be forced to encounter, this was surely the farthest from his mind.

Of course, he hadn't exactly felt comfortable with the way their waitress gazed at him—and Satine had made it perfectly clear _she_ hadn't either—but this feeling… it went well beyond 'uncomfortable.'

Had she not been… _dressed_ as she was and waiting tables at Zetros' Finest Food, he would have initially mistaken her to be a Jedi.

_Initially…_

But the sudden waves of pure ecstasy and infatuation that radiated off her and onto _him_ had caught him completely off-guard.

And he was almost _never_ caught off-guard.

_At least, I didn't used to be._

Though, he'd been caught off-guard by Anakin's betrayal, hadn't he? And by Padmé's sudden, seemingly illogical death.

By Satine's willingness to join him on this crazy flight across the galaxy.

And by the gold band that rested tightly around his finger every day and night.

He blinked, a vain attempt to clear his mind. She was trying to seduce him… somehow. _Pheromones?_ Obi-Wan had read about the seductive tactics used by the Falleens, but he hadn't known the Zeltrons possessed the same abilities. Perhaps they were even stronger.

If he'd known this, he never would have brought his family to such a planet.

Another blink freed him temporarily from the waitress' hold and he took the opportunity to grab Satine's hand in his own. Her pinched expression told him he was squeezing a bit too tightly, but he needed something that could ground him.

He was still a Jedi, of course. He was strong, mindful, and resilient.

But he was also a father and a refugee. And he was exhausted. His mind was not at its best—far from it. With a sudden pang, he realized he'd been better equipped in the heat of battle than he was in that very moment.

And her powers, whatever they were, seemed to snatch and swipe at him, grabbing at his brain; preying on his weaknesses and trying to sway him from what truly mattered.

Trying to sway him towards _her_.

"My dear," he began, his tone a bit dazed, "I think the baby needs rest more than we need food. Perhaps we should…"

And there they were again. The invisible hands… Caressing him, calling him, _pulling_ him towards the one place he didn't want to go.

Towards _her._

He was on his feet before he knew what was happening, jerking Satine along with him and knocking their menus to the floor.

"I think," he choked out, trying desperately to avert his eyes, "we should… We _should…_ "

_Blast! Why is this so kriffing difficult?_

"Oh, um, yes," he heard Satine say, though her lyrical voice was garbled and distorted. "I do believe the baby is getting fussy."

"Oh?" The waitress cocked her head and Obi-Wan had to shake his own just to clear it. "He doesn't look very fussy to me."

"Yes, well," he felt Satine pull him away from her, "looks can be deceiving, as I'm sure you well know."

The waitress cocked a seductive eyebrow, but before it could have its desired effect on Obi-Wan, he felt Satine begin to pull him towards the exit.

"Well," the waitress pressed, stepping in front of him once more, "our cafe doubles as a hotel. Perhaps you would care for a tour of our rooms?"

" _No_. Thank. _You_." Obi-Wan could only imagine the fiery glare that went along with his wife's biting words. Satine had always been good at giving off an air of finality when the situation called for it, but now it seemed as if she had finally met her match.

The waitress jutted her hip out to the side.

Persistence was only one word he could use to describe their waitress at the moment. The others were a jumble of adjectives he never thought himself capable of pinning to any living being, especially not the fairer sex.

A dull ache began to stir up within his chest and he suddenly found it hard to breathe. He was Jedi, for Force's sake! _I am a Jedi… A Jedi_ _ **Master…**_ _I'm stronger than this… Much...stronger...than…_ But his mind was not his own and he so desperately needed to get it back, to gain control of himself once more. To get away from _her._

He briefly wondered how Anakin would've handled such an uncomfortable situation, a thought which only intensified the growing ache.

Satine gripped him tighter. "Now, if you'll excuse us—"

"I'm sorry, folks," a deep voice began and Obi-Wan had yet to determine if this intrusion was a welcome one. "Is Zarie bothering you?"

Instantly, the waitress shrunk back as a taller male Zeltron stepped into the scene. To Obi-Wan's immense relief, her overbearing presence atop his brain shrunk as well.

Satine's tone was flat, harboring no pretense of cordiality. "I'm afraid she is. My _husband_ and I,"—she flashed a sharp look at the waitress—"are not accustomed to such intrusive serving methods."

The newcomer heaved a sigh. "That's what I was afraid of. She can be a little… pushy sometimes."

"I've noticed," Obi-Wan managed with a few blinks to clear the lingering buzz clouding his head.

"Zarie!" He snapped, turning to the girl. "Get back to your work! And don't you let me hear of you bothering any more customers, understand?"

Zarie bowed her head. "Yes, sir."

As they watched her scurry back to her duties, the Zeltron continued, "I don't blame you for hitting the road." He wiped his dark red hand on a grease-stained apron. "I only keep her around because I owe her father a favor. I hope this won't ruin your stay on Zeltros…"

A twinge of anxiety pricked Obi-Wan flesh as the manager trailed off, uncertainty clouding his once apologetic expression. Something about the way he'd begun to study them rubbed Obi-Wan the wrong way.

 _What in the stars is he doing?_ His arms slowly crept across Satine's shoulders, instinctively pulling her close.

"Well, thank you for your help, sir," Obi-Wan said, already ushering Satine towards the exit. "I wish you all the best luck with Zarie—"

_Only, Jedi don't believe in luck, right?_

_Anakin did…_

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

Obi-Wan tried to keep his tone neutral. "I couldn't even begin to imagine where."

"I swear, I've seen you before…"

"Obi?" Satine hissed under her breath.

His reply was barely audible. "Just keep going." Louder, he threw over his shoulder, "I'm sure I just have one of those generic faces. Good day!"

Though its intense rays blinded him instantly, the sun had never felt so good, so refreshing.

So freeing.

"What was that?" Satine inquired once they were a good distance away from the cafe.

"He recognized me. I'm not sure how, but whether it was from the holonet or some old war posters, I could tell he wasn't mistaken."

She hugged Luke closer, her motherly instincts kicking in. "Well, what are we going to do?"

"We're not going to take any chances, that's for certain."

"But the next refugee ship doesn't depart until tomorrow."

"Right…" Obi-Wan took a moment to survey their surroundings. Only about a half a dozen ships of various makes and models were docked on the fringes of the city port. None of them, he observed dismally, looked ready for take off. "Well, the refugee ship isn't the only way off this planet."

Satine followed his gaze, which had settled on a small Alderaanian freighter. Several workers were busy loading its cargo hold full of crates.

"But Obi—Oh, right, I'm sorry… _Ben_ —we don't have many credits as it is. How are we supposed to pay them?"

Obi-Wan forced himself to smile, though he could tell she saw right past his false reassurance. "We never know until we try, darling."

Upon approaching the ship, they discovered quickly that the crew was just about to make a return trip to Alderaan.

"Would a few travel weary passengers cramp your style?" Obi-Wan asked the pilot, a young man with hair far too long to ever be attractive.

"Nah, of course not!" He replied easily. "I take on passengers all the time! It'll cost you, though."

"I figured as much." When the man named his sum, Obi-Wan fought the urge to shudder. He couldn't remember the last time he'd laid eyes on such a large amount of credits. He cleared his throat, recovering quickly from the unexpected shock. "Yes, well, would you be willing to take five-hundred now and the rest when we reach Alderaan?" He chuckled lightly for good measure. "I'm afraid I don't usually carry such a sum when I leave home."

The pilot didn't even take the time to consider. "Hey, no problem!"

Obi-Wan felt Satine sigh beside him, her relief matching his own.

"I have to tell you, though," he went on, "the longer you take to pay me, the higher the charge increases. It's like, uh, interest or somethin'. You know?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "I'm afraid I do." He'd had more than his share of encounters with greedy upstarts to know there was no use in trying to negotiate. Captain Lazlo, as he called himself, was not going to budge. If anything, further bargaining would only raise the price.

"Welp!" Lazlo exclaimed, gesturing towards his ship, a smile planted firmly on his face. "Make yourselves at home. I'll get you to Alderaan in no time!"

"Obi," Satine began when they were out of earshot, "you know we don't have that kind of money."

"I know," Obi-Wan replied, taking Luke from her arms and trying not to think about how badly they must ache from carrying him for so long.

"Then why did you promise to pay that boy so much?"

"Because _we_ might not have sufficient funds, but I know someone on Alderaan who would be more than willing to help out an old friend."

Satine's brows furrowed, making her mild confusion known.

"Besides…" Obi-Wan gazed down at the baby, his chest tightening with a mixture of sadness and love. "Aren't you wondering how his sister is faring?"

"You don't mean… But I thought it wasn't safe for the two of them to be together?"

"This is a big galaxy, my love," Obi-Wan replied softly. "Bigger than some might think. One visit won't hurt anything."

"Whatever happened to playing it safe?" Satine asked with a smirk.

"Darling,"—Obi-Wan wrapped an arm around his wife and pulled her close—"I don't know of any other planet safer than Alderaan."

 _And a small touch of familiarity wouldn't go amiss either,_ he mused as they made their way into the spacious main cabin. _It will only be for a moment; a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things._

Deep down, Obi-Wan realized that the earlier ache hadn't come entirely from Zarie, rather, from his own battered soul. Deep down, he was craving familiarity, his old life.

His old self.

Deep down, he felt disjointed, unsure, like a stranger in his own skin.

But the past was gone, and Qui-Gon had always told him to focus on the present. _On the present_ … _Right…_

As he settled down on a plushy sofa next to his wife and child, however, he wondered why he hadn't been given the chance to live his present life in his past. The two could have so easily meshed together.

Instead, he was on a ship headed for Alderaan, where some of the last vestiges of his past remained. And it was this promise of familiarity that kept the dull ache from sharpening.

 _I'd already lost enough of my past before the Clone Wars, and still more during those endless campaigns._ He cuddled Luke closer. _Why does the galaxy always seem to destroy what I care about the most?_

 _Well…_ A subtle glance at Satine proved to him she was still there—still living, still breathing. _I won't let it take anything else from me._

_I swear it. This time, I won't be so blind._

_This time, I won't be too late._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I'd love to hear any ideas you all have for future chapters! I have taken every suggestion so far and added it to the list, so they will all happen! What else would y'all like to see in this fic?
> 
> Next time: an old friend crosses paths with our ragtag family, though not the friend you might be expecting... ;)


	5. IV

_**Satine** _

She was worried about him, though that was nothing new. _No doubt he worries about me just as often._

But this time felt different. He was going against everything they'd been working towards since the fall of the Republic: anonymity, secrecy, distance, and subtlety.

_And all for what? So he can stay connected to a life that no longer exists?_ She snuck a glance at her husband, who had dozed off not long ago, Luke resting contentedly against his chest. _Well, my dear, I know a thing or two about that._

_I know it doesn't work_.

Both their past lives were dead. The only difference was that she had buried hers just as they'd buried Padmé, while he insisted on trying to keep his own alive.

_You can't save what is already dead, my love. You and I both know this very well._

Too well.

Hours had flown by since their hasty departure from Zeltros and only now had her exhausted husband allowed himself to get some rest. Even then, he still kept a protective hand secured atop Luke's back.

Satine smiled, the irony of their situation not lost on her. Their romance had begun while on the run, and now it was coming into a full bloom on the run from the Empire.

Her grin faltered as she remembered their run in at the cafe. _Is the Empire looking for Obi-Wan specifically?_ She hadn't recalled seeing any wanted posters hanging around, but he was obviously wary of being recognized.

_Did he think that Zeltron was going to turn him in?_ She watched his chest rise and fall, exuding a peace she knew he hadn't felt in sometime. Especially not while sleeping.

Where did they draw the line of trust? Surely, not every being they would come across in their travels sympathized with the Empire. _Surely, there must be at least a handful of trustworthy souls left in the galaxy._

Since their departure, the crew had left them alone for the most part, much to Satine's relief. It had been a long time since she'd had time alone with her husband. Refugee ships were rather crowded and there was always someone with arm's reach.

She leaned into Obi-Wan, beginning to relax herself. _Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale._ _Breathe…_ _ **Breathe…**_

They would be all right. Everything would be all right.

_As long as I have him… We'll be all right…_

A sudden jolt pulled her out of the arms of sleep, a subtle relationship she hadn't even noticed she'd begun.

But now that she was awake, she longed for sleep to claim her again. "Obi?"

The man in question didn't even react to the absence of his undercover nickname. He was too busy gathering their bags and stringing them securely across his torso. "What is it? What's happened?"

When she met his eyes, her heart stalled. Anytime she caught sight of even the slightest flicker of fear in her brave husband's eyes, she found herself short of breath.

"Pirates," came his clipped reply.

"They've boarded?"

Quickly, yet carefully, he handed Luke back to her and she wasted no time in concealing the babe within the folds of her cloak.

"They're about to."

Her mind flew to the taser tucked in her satchel and she ached for it. _But I can't rightly hold a child while zapping pirates, now can I?_ This, she supposed, was why Obi-Wan had given Luke to her.

A bolt of anxiety pierced her brain. _Does he intend to use his lightsaber?_ That would certainly give away their identities. _Unless he was discreet about it…_ But how exactly _did_ one fight discreetly? Satine didn't know and she hoped she wouldn't ever need to find out.

Every few seconds, a crew member or two would scramble through the room or scurry down a ladder, panic and determination written plainly across their faces.

Satine hugged Luke close. "What are we going to do?"

"We're not going to panic, for starters."

"All right, I'm not panicking." She fixed him with a pointed look. "What's next?"

Everyone seemed to have forgotten about the weary passengers from Zeltros, paying them no mind in their frantic to and fro.

"Follow me," he beckoned, feet already pressing on towards the nearest hallway.

"Are you suggesting we _hide_?"

Obi-Wan smirked. "Would you rather we stand and fight?"

"Taking one of the escape pods seems the better option, don't you think?"

"We'd be shot down before we could even plot a course. Now, if I'm remembering correctly, these ships have secret compartments…"

A shudder shook the cruiser and it was all Satine could do to stay on her feet. "Big enough for two fully grown adults?"

"Big enough for several crates of spice."

Satine paled at the suggestion. "You don't mean to tell me we've thrown our lot in with a band of spice runners?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," Obi-Wan replied, "but they do seem to be rather friendly for smugglers, now don't they?"

Another shudder nearly knocked Satine and Luke to the ground, but Obi-Wan's hands steadied her not a moment too soon. "Careful!"

They had barely rounded the corner when Satine saw them. Pirates unlike any she'd ever seen. While tall, rough in appearance, and heavily armed, it was the sharp horns protruding from their faces and the cold glints in their eyes that sent her heart trembling.

Obi-Wan bit out an uncharacteristic curse and seconds later, the lights flickered out, plunging the entire hall into a thick, inky black. Shouts and curses erupted from where the pirates had been standing a good ways down, however, Satine didn't have time to wrap her mind around any possible explanations for the blackout as Obi-Wan began guiding her back the way they'd come.

"Whatever happens," he whispered in his ear, "stay out of sight."

"What are you going to do?" She whispered back, allowing him to whisk her to safety.

"I have a hunch, and if I'm right, we might be able to get out of this alive and unscathed."

So, he'd doubted his ability to protect her? To protect Luke?

Again, she hadn't time to dwell on the thought because the next thing she knew, Obi-Wan we ushering her into a maintenance closet.

"Obi-Wan!" She hissed, trying to keep her rising anxiety hidden. "Don't leave me! Please, don't leave—"

"I'm sorry, my love. It's the best way I know to keep you safe." She felt his soft fingers brush against her cheek. _Be brave. You must be brave for him, for Luke._

"Then promise you'll come back." _Preferably alive_.

"Satine, I will _always_ return to you. I always have, haven't I?"

She forced a short chuckle, but she couldn't quite lace it with the desired mirth. "Point taken, darling. Just… be safe."

"Promise me you won't leave this closet for anything, no matter what you hear."

Her heart did another somersault. _What sort of sounds does he expect me to hear…?_

"I promise." If she could somehow make herself feel as confident as she'd just sounded, everything would be fine. _We're going to be fine…_

Except, for the first time, she wasn't so sure.

All too soon, he was gone, securing the door firmly behind him.

And Satine was alone. Alone with her ragged breaths, her trembling hands, and her racing mind.

And baby Luke. Oh, if only he would stay asleep! What a blessing that would be. Then she wouldn't have to worry so much.

_Who am I fooling?_ She worried about him constantly. About what sort of man he would grow up to be, and if she would live long enough to see the glorious day. About what sort of life the child would have, and if he would grow up resenting her and Obi-Wan for giving him the life of a refugee instead of that of a normal boy.

_We can't keep traveling forever,_ she realized. _It's not fair to him. It's not fair to any of us._

_But what other choice do we have?_

Tiny sniffles brought her mind back to the horrible present and Satine froze.

_No…_

"Shh… Hush, dear one, _hush!_ " But her soothing whispers went unheeded as the babe began to rev up his vocal chords for a full blown wail. "No, no, dearest, hush! Shh! Shh—"

_Too late,_ she thought with regret. If she had only been paying better attention to the child, she might have been able to help him before he even awoke. Now, all she could do was try to muffle the piercing cries and hope the pirates were too caught up in their raid to notice.

Mere moments later, a sudden blast of light blinded Satine, but she didn't dare close her eyes.

"Well," a gravelly voice declared, "what do we have here?"

"What is it the boss always says?" The larger of the two pirates remarked, curling his fat fingers around her arm and dragging her further out into the blinding light. "Not all treasure is silver and gold."

"And this one's definitely a prize." The first one licked his lips greedily before yanking off her hood.

Satine clung tightly to her baby, vowing not to give him up without a fight.

In on swift motion, she swung at her attackers, kicking them both in the shin and eliciting several grunts of pain. Still, the fingers dug into her arm, cruel and unrelenting.

_All right, a different tactic, then._ Another kick, harder this time, followed by a fierce jerk of her body successfully freed her and she wasted no time standing around.

Her breaths came out heavy and uneven, but she kept her legs running at a speed she never would have thought herself capable. Running where, she had no idea. She just needed to get far enough away from those barves in order to find another secure place to hide.

_Just a little bit further… Just a little—_

A sharp tug on her cloak sent her stumbling and she hugged Luke so tightly to her chest that, for a moment, she feared she might have crushed him. He was so tiny, so fragile, but she had a sickening feeling these pirates didn't care.

Hands snatched at her shoulders, vying for a hold, but she kept fighting for her freedom.

Unfortunately, freedom was never something she could keep a first grasp upon. Not on Mandalore, not on Coruscant, and apparently not on this ship.

_Obi-Wan!_ But she knew her silent call would go unanswered. She was no Jedi, which meant she would never be able to communicate telepathically with her husband in the same way he had once spoken to his wayward apprentice. _Or how he'd so easily taken part in silent conversation with Qui-Gon all those years ago on Draboon._

A thick-skinned arm closed around her neck and Satine knew the time for struggling was over. How could she make an attempt at escape now without harming Luke?

She couldn't. It was a truth she had a difficult time grasping. She was at the mercy of the pirates; their prisoner; their _prize_.

_Obi… Obi-Wan…_

"That's it, love," one of the pirates spat. "There's no need to struggle. Weird not gonna hurt you."

"Yet," the other cackled, snaking his fingers around her arm once more.

And for the first time since the fall of the Republic, Satine felt true fear. Because she wasn't the only life at risk here.

Luke's wails were constant proof of that.

"And shut that thing up, will ya?"

Satine was able to maneuver her body just in time to block the oncoming blow, and while painful, the knuckles against her cheek filled her with satisfaction.

Because they hadn't hit Luke. She'd protected him and she would continue to do so.

She would take a thousand blows to save the boy from one.

And she knew deep down that she would give her life for him.

_Always. I will always give my life for you, dearest child._

_Always…_

But for how much longer would she even have her life to give?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! And remember, I'm always taking suggestions! I want to know who YOU want to see in this story and where YOU want to see the Kenobi-Kryzes go next. Thanks to everyone who has made a suggestion so far! I will be including them all in this story one way or another. ;)


	6. V

_**Obi-Wan** _

There wasn't much time, he knew. It would only be a matter of minutes before the pirates located the main power controls and turned the lights back on. Then, it would take even less time for them to connect the dots and figure out what was going on.

Using the Force to plunge their world into black was the first idea that had come to his mind. The less the pirates saw of his family, the better, but he feared he'd been too late in taking action. He had gotten a good enough look at the pirates, which meant there'd been enough time for the pirates to notice them.

_Remain calm,_ he reminded himself as he dashed through the dark hall, careful to cloak his footfalls within the concealing folds of the Force. _This is no different than the situations you were thrust into during the war._

Except that it _was_. He had a family now, people to care for, to protect.

_Oh please, are you honestly going to act as if you didn't have a family back then?_

But he'd always trusted Ahsoka, Cody, and Anakin to take care of themselves; to use their skills to not only protect their own lives, but the lives of each other as well. And while he didn't doubt Satine's ability to fight back if the need arose, it was far more difficult to defend an infant than it was a comrade in arms who possessed their own skill sets and survival instincts.

All too soon, the lights flickered back on and Obi-Wan knew his time was almost up.

_If I can only find him before the others find me._

And do what, exactly? _Call in a favor for an old friend?_ But had they ever really been _friends_? And was he willing to risk his family on the slight chance that the old pirate would be in a good mood today?

_I suppose it's too late to turn back now,_ he thought as he warily approached the next corner. Several voices jammed the air and Obi-Wan had a hard time picking out the one he was looking for.

Then, it came. That familiar, eternally jovial accent he hadn't heard since… _Well, since Master Gallia…_

Obi-Wan blinked hard in a vain attempt to wash the unpleasant memory away. _No, it was after he'd helped Ahsoka rescue the Younglings from Grievous._

Sometimes, it still felt slightly odd to utter the wicked cyborg's name only to remember that he was truly dead. _Over three years of fighting an enemy will do that to you, I suppose._

"No prisoners this time," the familiar voice called. "I don't feel like dealing with whimpering cowards or crying children."

"Uh, I don't think there're any kids on this ship, boss. Just the crew."

"Well, if there _were_ , I wouldn't want to deal with them. Only cargo. So! Let's pick up the pace, huh? I don't have all day!"

A chorus of _aye_ 's and _right away boss_ 's ended the conversation and the pirates scattered, hurrying back to their work.

_Perhaps we can simply hide this one out_ , Obi-Wan mused as he slowly began to retreat backward down the hall, senses still fully alert. After all, the Weequay weren't taking hostages.

Perhaps he wouldn't have to reveal himself, wouldn't have to give away his coveted identity just yet.

_Only when it's absolutely necessary_ , he vowed, continuing his retreat. _I'll only reveal myself if it's absolutely—_

"Boss!" The sudden voice was full of gravel and it grated against Obi-Wan's skin. "Look what I found!"

Obi-Wan forced himself not to fear the worst, but that didn't stop his chest from seizing.

"What did I just say?" A dramatic pause. "I said _no prison—_ Oh… _Well_ , aren't you a lovely little thing?"

It was all the confirmation Obi-Wan needed, a call to action he knew he couldn't avoid.

For the first time in days, he exercised his swift Jedi reflexes, bounding around the corner and expertly disarming the nearest pirates.

And there was Satine, half-hidden behind the meaty arms of possibly the most repulsive looking barve he'd ever seen. His heart jolted when he noticed the blaster digging into his wife's side.

"What the…" Hondo Onaka's goggled eyes met Obi-Wan's and, old friend or not, the Jedi wasted no time in leaping across the room and positioning his lightsaber against the pirate king's exposed neck.

It felt strange to be using the weapon once again, but Obi-Wan didn't have time to delve into the feeling any further.

"If you harm her in any way," he threatened, "I'll slit your captain's throat, and then I'll come for the rest of you."

Astonished murmurs filtered through the room and everyone stopped what they were doing.

"I thought the Jedi were extinct," he heard someone whisper, only to be shushed by their nearest comrade.

"You think I haven't dealt with Jedi before?" Hondo said with a laugh. "I've met the end of more laserswords than any other pirate I know, and I'm still alive to tell about it!"

"I know you have," Obi-Wan replied, his eyes never leaving Satine. "But you might not be alive for much longer if you don't command your men to release her… _Now._ "

"Wait…" Hondo tried to shift his lanky frame without accidentally frying his skin. "I know that voice…"

Obi-Wan couldn't keep the small smirk from stretching his lips. "I would be quite offended if you didn't, Hondo."

He watched the pirate's eyes light up with recognition. "Kenobi!" He barked another laugh. "Well, what do ya know? Of all the ships and all the planets, we can't stop running into each other!"

"As much as I've enjoyed running into an old friend—which is what we are, are we not? _Friends_?"

Hondo chuckled again. "Of course, of course! This is a good day, of course we're friends!"

"I would appreciate it very much if your men released my family. Preferably within the next few seconds."

"Of course!" Hondo jerked his hand, motioning for the pirates to step away from Satine and Luke. The glare his wife shot them would have been comical to Obi-Wan if her life hadn't just been in grave danger. "And lower your weapons! After all, I said no prisoners, didn't I?"

Only after the pirates lowered their blasters did Obi-Wan deactivate his saber, though he refused to latch it back onto his belt.

_It never hurts to be prepared._ He'd learned that the hard way far too many times before and he refused to be caught off-guard again.

_Never again… Not after Anakin—_

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Hondo began, waving his arms and shaking his head, genuine disbelief painting his expression. "Did you say your _family?_ "

Obi-Wan and Satine exchanged glances. "Um…"

A wide grin broke out across Hondo's face. "Kenobi! You old rascal!" He laughed again, a contagious, billowing sound that had Obi-Wan smiling along with him.

Satine, he noted, seemed all but amused.

"But, ah," Hondo continued as his laughter died down, "doesn't your Jedi Code or whatever forbid you from…?" He made a crude gesture with his hands and Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

"I'm afraid there isn't much of a code anymore."

"Ah, well. What good are codes anyway? I know _I've_ never found much use for them, as you can plainly see."

Obi-Wan noticed the pirates had begun their raid once more, loading anything of value they could find into Hondo's flying saucer, which was currently attached to the ship by a long round tunnel.

"I always pegged you as the Family Man type," Hondo went on. "It was only a matter of time, right? Now, where are you two love birds headed? Hondo'll get you there quick as a wink!"

He felt Satine squeeze his hand, her message clear.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan began, "we appreciate that, but I'm sure this ship can get us there just fine."

Hondo shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. The pilot of this sorry excuse for a freighter is a little, uh, _under the weather_ right now. I doubt he'll be flying any time soon."

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to sigh. "Hondo, what did you—"

" _I_ didn't do anything! But… Well,"—here, he smirked—"I can't always be accountable for my men, now can I?"

Satine's angry tones shook any remaining plea stories from the conversation. "If you've harmed that poor boy, I swear to you—"

"Whoa, whoa!" Hondo held up his hand in mock self-defense. "I told you, I haven't touched anyone! I've been standing here this whole time! But, my crew has gotten around, as I'm sure you know."

"If it's all the same to you," Obi-Wan intervened, placing a hand on Satine's shoulder, "I believe we'll stay here."

"Well, that choice _is_ yours, of course, but I don't know how far this bucket of bolts'll get you…"

Obi-Wan raised a brow.

"After all," Hondo said, his voice noticeably lighter, "I can't have anyone following me, now can I? That's just not good business."

_Of course he would drain the fuel tanks._

"You're going to leave these poor men here to die in the void of space?" Satine cried, her indignation palpable.

"Darling—" Obi-Wan began, but he was quickly cut off when she turned on him.

"He's just going to leave them here! With no fuel and no hope for survival! And you're going to let him… aren't you?"

Another chuckle from Hondo. "She's a sharp one, I'll give you that, Kenobi."

Indignation morphed into fury as Satine studied Obi-Wan's expression, which he hoped was unreadable for the most part. "I can't _believe_ you're going to let him do this!"

"He's going to do it whether or not I try to stop him," he shot back.

"Well, you're the Great Negotiator, aren't you?"

"Oh, please don't call me that," Obi-Wan replied, trying hard to keep his exasperation concealed. "Not you too."

"Like it or not, that's what you _are_ ," Satine hissed. "Now, _negotiate._ "

"Look, the crew will still have their comm system," he reasoned. "They won't be stranded; they're perfectly equipped to call for help."

"They shouldn't have to! And what if your so-called _friend_ here decides to—"

"As entertaining as this is," Hondo intruded, mere inches from physically stepping between the couple, "our work here is almost done and my offer has still gone unanswered."

Gazing into his wife's eyes, Obi-Wan found himself faced with a choice of the most difficult kind. On one hand, he would risk his family by throwing his lot in with Hondo's crew. On the other…

_Blast!_

He risked jeopardizing his relationship with his wife.

There didn't seem to be any way to make both parties happy. Still…

A spark of an idea began formulating in his mind. His only fear was his possible inability to implement it properly.

Clearing his throat and risking one more glance at his raging wife, Obi-Wan addressed the pirate before him.

"It seems to me that we've reached an impasse…"

"Impasse?" Hondo replied, loud enough to be heard over Satine's quick "There is no impasse here!"

"My proposal is this," Obi-Wan continued as if neither had ever spoken at all, "Hondo, if you'll leave the fuel tanks at least half-full, we'll take you up on your offer to, uh, _escort_ us across the galaxy."

"What?"

Satine's cry was quickly muted by his hand slipping into hers, a warning to _let me handle this._

_Fine,_ the sharp look in her eyes seemed to declare, _but we'll be talking about this later._

_I look forward to it,_ his smirk easily responded.

"Eh," Hondo said, "I'm afraid I can't do that. Do you know how far a ship can travel on half a tank? But…" He rubbed a hand over his chin. "I'll leave them half a quarter."

"A third," Obi-Wan pressed as Satine began trying to soothe Luke, whose cries he hadn't even noticed amidst the chaos.

"A quarter is the best I can do."

Obi-Wan paused just long enough to switch tactics. "What's the nearest star system?"

"Uh… the Neimoidian System, I think?" A pirate carrying an armload of weapons stopped his trek to whisper something in Hondo's ear. "Ah! Actually, we're _in_ the Neimoidian System! A lucky break for your precious crew."

"Then if you'll leave this ship with enough fuel to reach the closest planet, we'll accept your offer."

Though why the pirate seemed so adamant about ferrying them through the stars was beyond Obi-Wan.

_One thing at a time_ , he told himself. _One thing at a time._

He knew Hondo too well to fear capture. If he'd wanted to take them hostage, he would have done it by now. Perhaps it was the knowledge of Obi-Wan's lightsaber that held the barve at bay. _Or perhaps he truly wants to help us._

Still, once Obi-Wan figured out what Hondo expected to get in return for his services, he would be able to rest much easier.

"Deal." Hondo snatched up Obi-Wan's hand and shook it vigorously. "Now, if you'll wait just a moment while I put someone else in charge of this raid, I'll see you to your quarters personally."

With a suggestive wink at Satine, Hondo sauntered off in search of a worthy second-in-command.

"Do you truly trust him enough to think this idea even remotely safe?" Satine whispered in Obi-Wan's ear, having successfully hushed the baby.

"No…" he replied with caution, eyeing Hondo as he met with his second on the far end of the hall. "But he is my friend, and I have a feeling he wants something in return."

"Oh? And whatever could have given you _that_ idea?"

The quip wasn't wholly unexpected and Obi-Wan flashed Satine a smirk. "Something specific, dear. And the sooner I find out what it is, the sooner we can get on with our lives."

"Well…" She inhaled deeply. "I trust you. Wherever you lead, you know I'll be right at your side, following you every step of the way."

"And I'll never lead you astray," he promised, gripping her slender hand in his.

Only time would tell if he'd be able to keep it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Six is in the works and should be out by next month or sooner. ;)


	7. VI

_**Vader** _

The wanted poster was far too handsome, somehow bringing out the Jedi's best features.

_Who was in charge of creating this?_

How was anyone supposed to collect the bounty—which was far too generous a sum, in his opinion—if they were too busy fawning over his old Master's dashing good looks?

_**Anakin's**_ _old Master,_ he reminded himself. _And Anakin is dead._

_He was weak._

Vader would be stronger.

"I want a copy of this posted on every building on every planet in the Core and Mid Rims." The officer cowering beside him nodded at the artificially breathy command.

"Yes, Lord Vader."

"And on every newsreel on the holonet."

"Of course, Lord Vader."

_I will find you,_ he seethed in silence as he burned invisible holes into the poster. _And I will make you_ _ **pay**_ _for everything you took from me._

"I want his bounty listed as top priority," he continued. "The Galaxy's Most Wanted."

"Yes, Lord Vader."

It took every ounce of self-restraint to keep from crushing the poster in a tight phantom grip, and then the fool trembling beside him. The likeness was astonishing and it was pulling memories long-buried back to the surface of his tormented mind.

No. _No!_ He wouldn't remember. He wouldn't let himself relive Anakin's life; Anakin's mistakes; Anakin's foolish, damning emotions.

"Is there… anything else, Lord Vader?"

With a flick of his wrist, he dismissed the blithering idiot, who scurried off to do his bidding.

Yes, he _would_ find Kenobi, and he would see to it himself that the last Jedi's death was beyond painful.

_He'll feel what I felt, what_ _**he** _ _put me through._

Then, and only then, would he be able to rest easy.

Or would he? Sometimes, he wondered if there truly was no rest for the wicked. Some nights, he felt the truth of the ancient saying, but other nights…

Beneath his dark mask, Vader smiled.

On other nights, there was no satisfaction that tasted quite as sweet as the thought of revenge.

At the thought of justice.

_Revenge for everything he took from me._

Justice for the life he'd been forced to leave behind, to bury.

And rest for his relentlessly tormented soul.

* * *

_**Satine** _

"Do I even want to inquire as to _why_ you have a full king suite aboard your ship?"

Her husband's tone perfectly mirrored her own embarrassed shock.

"Eh," the pirate captain replied with a casual shrug, "it never hurts to be prepared, am I right?"

The _for what?_ was an idea Satine didn't even want to entertain. After all, what mattered was that they would have a peaceful place to stay together.

_But who else has stayed in this room? And how many times has it been cleaned?_ She couldn't help the wrinkle of her nose. The room _looked_ clean, but then again… _That waitress didn't look like she could have such a hold over a Jedi Master…_

"Right," Obi-Wan replied, though his voice betrayed his uncertainty. "Yes, well, thank you for such, uh, _comfortable_ accommodations."

"Anytime, Kenobi! Anything for you and your gorgeous wife."

She felt a protective hand close around hers and for the moment, she felt safe. Then, Hondo opened his mouth again.

"Sorry I can't take you three to Alderaan," he said with a shrug that didn't speak of any remorse whatsoever, "but you know how it is. My crew is… uh… _less_ than _welcome_ in the Core Worlds."

"That's fine," Obi-Wan brushed off with a tired grin. "Any planet will do as long as you don't drop us in Hutt Space. And the further you can take us from the Core Worlds, the better."

The pirate flashed her husband a quizzical look. "What, first you want me to take you to Alderaan, and then you tell me you want to go as far from the Core as possible?" He shook his head, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "You need to learn how to make up your mind, Kenobi."

"I'll certainly try."

"Well! Don't let me keep you two from each other and whatever you're about to go do in there." Here, the pirate grinned and winked.

"You mean sitting down to talk?" Obi-Wan smirked. "Yes, we wouldn't want you to keep us from _that_."

Not embarrassed in the slightest by his failed innuendo, Hondo made flapping motions with his fingers, effectively shoeing the couple into the suite.

As the double doors slid shut, Satine heard Obi-Wan let out a sigh of relief.

"Overbearing, much?" she inquired with a small grin.

"And overconfident, overly helpful, and overly friendly? You have no idea. Though, only to those he likes."

"Well," she began, pulling him over to the bed, "let's just be glad for a moment that he likes you. And now, you can let your mind relax for a short while, at least."

"That sounds glorious, my dear." However, as they settled atop the very expensive, very _stolen_ comforter, his brows furrowed and he began studying her intensely. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"I'm all right."

"They didn't… They didn't do anything to you?"

"Besides nearly wrenching my arm from its socket?" She gave a dry laugh. "No. They didn't." Tucking Luke closer to her chest, she turned his studious gaze back around on him. "What about you? Are you all right?"

"Still a bit shaky, but I'll live," he returned with a smirk before wrapping an arm around her waist and pulled both their heads down onto the pillows. His expression sobered the more he gazed at her, the infant stretching out in the small space between them. "I thought I was going to lose you. Both of you…"

Her heart twisted, but she shoved the feeling down to the depths. She was safe; they all were.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," she teased, but the humor fell short and she returned his intense gaze. "I promise, Obi, I won't leave you. I will _never_ leave you."

Whether he'd coughed or chuckled, she couldn't tell, but he closed his eyes, and his whisper broke her heart.

"Everyone leaves at one time or another, my dear."

"True," she replied, treading carefully, "but I think you've forgotten something very important." His eyes opened and he turned back to her, the silent question painting his features. With a soft smile, she lifted her left hand up and wriggled her ring finger. "I'm bound to you. I made a promise at the altar to be by your side forever. Whoever wants to take me away from you will have to kill me first."

Obi-Wan winced and Satine regretted her choice of words. To compensate, she folded his hand in her and was surprised to find that it trembled.

Leaning close until their foreheads touched, she whispered, "I will always love you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and nothing will ever change that. And I will _never_ abandon you. If you can count on nothing else, count on this."

His lips were on her in seconds, light and gentle. Luke squirmed and she stroked his head as she melted into the kiss.

She was forced to pull away only when the babe let out a demanding cry. As she reached out for the infant, Obi-Wan drew Luke to his chest.

"Allow me. You rest."

A slight flutter of her eyes spoke of an exhaustion she had yet to acknowledge. Instead of closing them, however, she stared at her husband intently. His methodical strokes across Luke's forehead had the desired calming effect and soon, soft snores were the only sound in the room.

Beyond the tightly locked doors, Hondo's crew clamored about, taking no measures to quiet their stomping feet or their roaring laughter.

_Obviously, they're not used to having a baby on board._

_There shouldn't even_ _ **be**_ _a baby on board such a ship in the first place,_ she noted with contempt. But she had made a promise to follow her husband, and follow she would. Of course, that didn't mean she had to like every place he led. And Hondo's ship was certainly one of those places.

However, pirates weren't what worries her at the moment. No, something entirely different weighed on her mind…

"What did you mean earlier?" She began.

Obi-Wan's gaze shifted from the sleeping baby to her half-lidded eyes. "What?"

"I called you the Great Negotiator." Her brows furrowed at the memory. "And you said, _'Not you too.'_ Why?"

He was silent for a moment, but he never broke their gaze. Then, he sighed.

"I've… never quite cared for that label." The admission came as somewhat of a surprise, though Satine kept her expression neutral. "While I may have a talent for… helping others see things the way I want them to, or talking my way out of tricky situations, I've never… I'm not… I'm not the Great Negotiator. I'm just Obi-Wan. I never wanted to be in the spotlight in the first place, and while the war and the press certainly changed that, such a nickname only heightened my… growing _popularity_. I've seen the billboards and the holonet articles. To the public, I was some sort of impersonal hero." Another sighed completely deflated him. "To have you throw that at me, well… I'd prefer to be Obi-Wan, and only Obi-Wan, to you."

Twining her finger around his, she whispered, "I'm sorry, my love, but you're so much more than 'just Obi-Wan' to me. You're my husband, my hero, and my best friend. You're my savior and my one true love. My Jedi, my general; Master, Knight, and Leader." She paused to give him a proper smirk. "You're even that stuck up young Padawan who came to my rescue all those years ago."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "You thought I was stuck up?"

"Well, you _did_ have a habit of reminding me of the rules and the right way to do things."

"Only because _you_ would so blatantly disregard them all."

"I was a royal on the run. What did you expect? I was tired of having to fold under someone else's leadership."

"Yet, you let Qui-Gon and I lead you in the end."

"Only because _you_ were so disarmingly charming, my dear Obi-Wan."

"Disarmingly charming? That's a new one."

She had gotten him to smile, soaking in the way the corners of his eyes crinkled.

"And yet, so fitting," she added, scooching as close to him as she could without squishing Luke. "But, if it vexes you so, I'll refrain from using that nickname. For the record,"—a teasing glint flashed across her eyes—"the Great Negotiator has a better ring to it than _Ben_."

"You're still on that?"

"It just… gets caught on my tongue. It doesn't feel as natural as Obi-Wan."

He cocked a brow. "And the Great Negotiator is easier for you?"

In response, she quirked her lips before leaning in for another kiss. "I love you."

"Would you think me a complete sap if I returned that with a 'not more than I love you'?"

She hummed in mock thought. "It all depends on how you say it."

He kissed her again, and when they parted, his lips hovered mere millimeters from hers.

" _Not_ ," he whispered seductively, "as much as _I_ love _you_."

The last words came out almost as a purr and Satine's heart fluttered.

Another kiss turned into two, then three, and when Satine woke up the next morning, she remembered falling asleep to his lips caressing hers.


	8. VII

_**Obi-Wan** _

He couldn't escape it, not even in sleep. On the contrary, the moment he closed his eyes was the moment he could feel it the worst. Feel the heat eating at his skin; feel the sweat pouring over his eyes like a waterfall; feel the sheer hatred that rolled off his brother in waves. Endless, agonizing _waves_.

Hatred for Obi-Wan; for himself, even.

" _Go ahead…"_ In his dreams, he recalled a distant conversation of a by-gone era. _"... I will understand completely if you choose to hate me from this point on. What I've done to you, Anakin, is inexcusable."_

" _I could never hate you, Master,"_ Anakin had returned softly, his eyes glazing over at the mere thought. _"I'm mad at you, and hurt, and…"_ He'd blinked then, locking his gaze on Obi-Wan. _"But I could never hate you."_

" _Oh, Anakin…"_ He remembered the unfamiliar feeling of his own dampening eyes. _"I'm so sorry…"_

" _I know. But…"_ As Anakin had sucked in a tight breath, Obi-Wan had held his own. _"I forgive you. Kriff, I can't keep living like this. You hurt me, and that's no joke, but you're sorry and… and_ _ **I'm**_ _sorry for… for making your apology so… so kriffing_ _ **difficult!**_ _"_

Then, Obi-Wan had welcomed his former apprentice into a warm embrace as the two promised never to talk about the whole Rako Hardeen debacle ever again.

" _I could never hate you, Master…"_

Obi-Wan's subconscious fought to escape the terrible throes of sleep.

" _I could never…"_

No… No, no, _no!_

" _I could…"_

Anakin…

" _I…"_

" _ **I…**_ _"_

" _I_ _ **hate**_ _you!"_

With a sharp gasp, Obi-Wan forced himself out of the nightmare, pulling his eyelids open mere seconds before Anakin's body was consumed by the flames.

Beads of sweat trickled down his brow, stinging his sleepy eyes. A quick glance to his right eased his racing heart, though only slightly. Satine slept soundly, curled up against baby Luke. Obi-Wan gently covered her with the blanket they'd forgotten to warm themselves with earlier before slipping silently out of bed.

She didn't deserve to be woken, not yet. And not by another one of his far-too-common night terrors. _I am perfectly capable of sorting this one out on my own. I just need space… and time._ But how much time was _too_ much time? And when would the memories fade like embers into the distant past instead of inflaming every darkened moment of his present and future?

_Oh, honestly,_ he scolded himself as he donned his Jedi robe, _have you forgotten how long you dreamed about Master Qui-Gon after Naboo?_

_Master Qui-Gon…_ Yoda had promised to teach him how to communicate with his long deceased mentor, and while the diminutive Grand Master had made good on this promise, teaching him the essentials of such a mystical form of communication, Obi-Wan couldn't seem to grasp the steps necessary to receive a reply from Qui-Gon. Of course, he spoke to him… some. When he thought about; when he wasn't busy with Satine or the baby. But he never heard anything back from his long-deceased Master.

_Perhaps he knows how horribly I've failed him and refuses to grant me a reply._ Yes, that seemed logical. Practical. In his tortured mind, he didn't deserve to speak with Qui-Gon, the man to whom he'd made a promise—a promise he'd broken in his failure to keep Anakin from the lures of the Darkside.

The halls of the ship were dim at this time of night, but not entirely unnavigable. Drunken curses and songs traveled lightly down the hall from within the inner rooms and Obi-Wan did his best to block out the rowdy noises. He needed to think, to concentrate on calming his mind enough to attempt sleep once again.

" _I_ _ **hate**_ _you!"_

Obi-Wan blinked. Hard.

That voice… Try as he might, he could not get that hate-filled _voice_ out of his head. It continued to scream at him over and over until he was certain he wouldn't be able to take it for even another minute.

_He was my best friend—my brother. How could he turn against me so?_ Sure, the two of them had their disagreements and arguments over the years, but he'd never once thought Anakin capable of such monstrous, traitorous acts.

" _I_ _ **hate**_ _you!"_

Another blink.

" _I_ _ **hate—!**_ _"_

"Well! Kenobi! So, you're a late partier, too, eh?"

The sudden sound of a voice—a _real_ voice, not one from his memories—startled the former Jedi Master, and it took every last ounce of his self-restraint not to jump sky high.

"Hondo," he greeted with a small smile. "I wasn't aware you were up. Did you even go to sleep at all?"

It was a tease, but even the jolly pirate seemed to sense its underlying twinge of concern.

"Eh, I sleep when I want to. And right now, I've decided I don't want to. What about you? You look as though you've seen a ghost. Or two."

"You have no idea," Obi-Wan muttered and Hondo made no further comment. "I was just stretching my legs, getting some air before going back to bed."

"Ah," Hondo drawled. "Well, I'm afraid the air isn't very good for clearing the lungs in this section of the ship. Come!" he beckoned. "Walk with me and I'll take you to a better place for lung- and mind-clearing, and soul searching, and whatever you Jedi do in the middle of the night."

With a chuckle, Obi-Wan followed his host back through the halls. It was a little ways past Obi-Wan and Satine's quarters that he noticed the sign.

"'No Deathsticks Beyond This Point'?" Obi-Wan smirked. "Really, Hondo, I thought you didn't abide by codes."

"I don't." The pirate gave the sign a quick glance. "I don't smoke deathsticks myself, so I don't have to follow the rules. They don't apply to me. I do, however, like to have a few sections of my own ship where I'm not constantly coughing. Where the air is as clean as it can be in the void of space." He grinned, filling his lungs for show.

And Obi-Wan had to admit, it was easier to breathe in this part of the ship.

"Well, hats off to you, then, for maintaining some semblance of cleanliness… for a pirate."

"Believe me, the air's the only part of the ship that _is_ clean." With a chuckle, Hondo led on until they arrived in what appeared to be some sort of lounge that doubled as a gazing room. "Sit! You still look like you've been visiting with the undead and I would prefer not to have a Jedi pass out in one of my best rooms."

Taking the seat offered him, Obi-Wan settled down onto the plushy, red cushions. Hondo took the chair opposite him and for several moments, the odd duo simply stared at the passing stars.

It was a strange feeling, to say the least, sitting quietly—almost peacefully—across from one of the galaxy's most notorious pirates. It was an even stranger feeling to call the pirate "friend."

"My men and I," Hondo began, breaking the silence with an uncharacteristically dismal tone, "we saw one of them."

"One of… who?"

When Hondo's eyes met his own, Obi-Wan had to battle the sudden urge to look away. There was something in the eccentric pirate's expression, something familiar. Something he'd seen in only one other civilian before…

In Bail's dark eyes on the _Tantive IV._

"A Jedi," Hondo went on. "We were just taking off after a job on Cato Neimoidia. He was just… shot right out of the sky by his own men. I'd never seen anything like it. I never suspected something like… And I'm sure he didn't either. Of course, he didn't. How could he?"

_Cato Neimoidia._

_Plo Koon…_

Throat constricting, he resisted the urge to squeeze shut his eyes. That never did much good anyway.

"No one did." Obi-Wan's voice sounded distant in his ears, almost as if he hadn't spoken at all. "No one… No one saw it coming. Any of it."

"Tell me, when did the Jedi lose control of their own men? And what would possess such staunchly loyal soldiers to commit such an act of treason, huh?"

"I'm not sure we ever truly had control to begin with. As for the question of treason… the Jedi were accused of treason by the Chancellor, our new Emperor Palpatine."

"Oh, don't tell me he's a crazy lasersword wielder too."

Obi-Wan couldn't quite achieve a smile. "I'm afraid so. He was in control of our soldiers from the very beginning, I'm certain of it. Anakin tried to… Well, Rex was convinced that…" He stopped, pressing a fist against his mouth. "Well, none of that is relevant now. The past can't be changed."

Hondo was studying him now, a curious expression gracing his leathered face. "I thought they had killed all the Jedi. It was… a fact I found I wasn't prepared to accept, for reasons I haven't been able to pinpoint. And then _poof!_ You show up on the very ship I decided to raid. And I couldn't help but wonder: _how_ , Kenobi, did you manage to survive the massacre?"

_How, indeed._

_Cody…_

" _A good man, that Cody."_

" _When have I ever let you down, sir?"_

" _Good soldiers follow orders…"_

Darkness enveloped him, and yet it took a moment for Obi-Wan to realize his eyelids had closed on him. And he couldn't seem to get them to open again.

"I was shot down, just like the Jedi on Cato Neimoidia. Plo Koon was his name. You've never met him, I don't believe." Finally, his blue orbs shown once more through the dim lighting, reflecting the stars hurrying past the giant viewscreen. "I was lucky enough to fall into a deep pool of water. Without it, I wouldn't be here now."

Did he dare tell Hondo about the Temple? How he'd stepped over the dead bodies of all his friends, checking their pulses even when he knew they were no longer counted among the living? How he had discovered the chamber of defenseless Younglings, all marred and mangled by lightsaber burns? The very saber he'd helped his young apprentice craft so many years ago…

No. He wouldn't divulge any of this. No one else needed to be privy to the horrors he'd witnessed. _You can't even make yourself tell Satine, your own_ _ **wife**_ _, for Force Sakes!_

He'd let her in on a few details, particularly after one of his worst nightmares. Yes, he'd told her plenty… Just not enough, it would seem. _From her point of view, at least._

"What about that little Tano girl. Is she…?"

"I don't know." And oh, how it killed him not to know the fate of his Grandpadawan! Was she safe? Had she escaped? Or was Rex a better assassin than he was a soldier? _No, no… He cared for her. They were friends. Surely that must have—_

_But you and Cody were close too. A tight-knit team. More than a team,_ he realized, _but almost as close of friends as Anakin and I are._

_Were._

"I would like to believe she found a way to escape," Obi-Wan continued, swallowing back his rising bile.

"She was a resourceful one," Hondo remarked with a hint of fondness. "And feisty. You can be sure she didn't go down without a fight."

"Yes…" Obi-Wan intoned, stroking his beard in a vain attempt to ease his nerves.

"And that other one who always followed you around? What about him? Starkiller? Star-Something. I can never remember his name."

Obi-Wan felt his throat tighten as if Dooku himself was slowly choking the life out of him. _But he's dead._ And even after so many days… _His death still doesn't feel right…_

"Anakin," he supplied. "Anakin Skywalker."

The name felt so unfamiliar, so foreign, almost as though he no longer held the right to use it, to say it as if it mattered.

_But it_ _**does** _ _matter. Doesn't it? It will always matter…_

"Skywalker. That's right. Is he…?"

"He's dead." Obi-Wan's tone was clipped, bordering on snappish. _I killed him._

_I killed him I killed him I killed him I killed him—_

"Oh… I'm so sorry. Truly, I am. You two seemed… Close."

"We were. Once. Or, perhaps," Obi-Wan continued with a reflective frown, "we weren't ever as close as I'd thought. We certainly were never as close as I wanted us to be, but then… Well, that's beside the point."

"What _is_ the point, then?"

"You tell me. Why were you so insistent on making us your passengers?"

A sad smile flickered across Hondo's lips. "For this."

Obi-Wan took a quick sweep of the room, but everything was still the same. Nothing was out of the ordinary; nothing seemed important enough to…

_Oh._

Hondo cleared his throat before going on, leaning forward a bit in his chair. "When I saw you were alive, I couldn't stop remembering the Jedi on Cato Neimoidia. I needed to ask you, to listen to you talk about it from a Jedi's point of view. I thought perhaps a Jedi General could make sense of the one thing this old pirate could not."

Obi-Wan felt himself nod. "And did I fulfill this need?"

A slight smirk. "Somewhat. I just have one more question, if it's not too painful."

_Oh, you have no idea._

"Go ahead."

"I have to know, so if you could at least give me your best guess, I would be more grateful than you'll ever know." Hondo sucked in a breath. "That little girl, the Tholothian who hung around with all those other young things. The Wookie, the Rodian, that annoying little human boy… Katooni, that was her name. Tell me she survived."

_Oh…_

Flashes of the fallen Younglings hiding in the Council Chamber plagued his mind, but he pushed them away for the moment, knowing full well they would make their return later. They always did.

"Well," he began, forcing a small smile, "I believe she had a greater chance of surviving than most. Her clan had taken off on an extended field trip, of sorts, shortly before the Jedi Purge." _Just because that's what the media is calling it doesn't mean you have to—_

Hondo's entire countenance lit up. "Then you think she might be…?"

"I have no reason to believe she wouldn't be alive. There were no clone troopers with them on this trip. It was simply an old-fashioned exploration for growing Jedi Younglings, reminiscent of those taken before the war. I can't say I know where she is at this very moment, but I know they were planning to visit Bandomeer to see the AgriCorps." At Hondo's puzzled expression, Obi-Wan added, "That's where the Jedi farms are located. For the most part, the planet has stayed out of the war, so it was a relatively safe place to send the clan. Still… I would be deceiving you not to say that anything can happen."

For a brief moment, Obi-Wan allowed himself to imagine what might have happened—how things could have gone so differently—if Qui-Gon had never taken him on as his apprentice at Bandomeer. _If he'd only just left me there to rot as a farmer… Perhaps more Jedi would still be alive right now…_

_Perhaps my brother wouldn't have burned to death on that hellish planet._

_But then again… We never would have_ _**been** _ _brothers if Qui-Gon had left me to my fate._

And he couldn't even picture a life in which he wasn't a Jedi. It had been his destiny.

_Right. And now look where destiny has brought us all._

"Well," Hondo exclaimed, "a small lead is better than none at all, am I right?"

_Lead?_ "Wait a minute, are you planning on…?"

Hondo shrugged. "Katooni almost joined my crew once, and I bet she would've if her loyalty to the Jedi wasn't so blasted strong. But now… Well… I'm sure she needs a place to go home to."

"They all do," Obi-Wan offered softly.

"And you can trust Hondo to take care of them!" He declared, and Obi-Wan found it interesting that _yes._ Yes, he could trust the pirate to care for the Younglings.

_He could probably take better care of them than I could—than I_ _**have,** _ _actually._

"If you could only promise me one thing before you begin your crusade to rescue the Younglings," Obi-Wan requested, disliking the hesitancy of his own voice. "Could you drop Satine and I off somewhere—anywhere—other than Bandomeer? I would greatly appreciate it."

"Of course, of course," Hondo promised. "I can see how visiting Jedi farms could be… painful for you. Considering…"

"Yes, exactly, thank you," Obi-Wan finished quickly, letting Hondo believe his guess had been the correct one.

But it was a string of events that had played out more than twenty-five years ago that kept Obi-Wan from returning to the Outer Rim planet. Too many burning memories followed his thoughts of that place—the place that so very nearly ended his dreams; his career as a Jedi before it had even begun.

Many times during the first years of his apprenticeship to Qui-Gon, he feared the slightest mistake would get him sent back to the AgriCorps. His Master also had his own share of fears—the fear that Obi-Wan would turn out like his previous failed apprentice.

Hence, the source of Obi-Wan's fears.

_No. No, don't remember. That's all behind you now—_ _**years** _ _behind you. Focus on the present, on the here and now._

_On the here and now…_

"Well!" Hondo announced with a sharp clap of his hands. "I think I had better go make sure my men aren't destroying my ship, and you should get back before your wife starts shouting at my crew again."

Obi-Wan had to smile at this. "She's very… determined."

"That she is," Hondo agreed with a laugh. "And Kenobi," he went on as Obi-Wan rose from his chair, "thank you. For trying to make sense of all this madness for an old friend."

"No, thank you." Obi-Wan returned. "It… helped, somewhat, to talk about it."

Hondo simply nodded.

"And remember: anywhere but Bandomeer."

The pirate smirked. "Do I get to know why?"

"It's better you don't." Obi-Wan flashed a sad smile. "I think there's been enough depressing tales tossed around for one night."

Hondo didn't press the issue, much to Obi-Wan's relief.

During the walk back to his quarters, Obi-Wan tried not to dwell on all he'd told his friend, shoving the memories down to the innermost depths of his heart. He didn't need to remember—didn't _want_ to remember. All he wanted was sleep, a good night's sleep with no dreams, no nightmares, and no memories.

Memories…

" _I hate you!"_

"Obi-Wan!" Satine's tone was laced with worry and her arms were around him the second he stepped through the door. "I thought something had happened to you! Don't you ever do that again!"

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped past his lips. "Do what, exactly?"

"Disappear in the dead of night without even a word!" She was studying him now, her eyes intense. "No 'I'm stepping out,' or 'be back in a minute, dear.' Nothing!"

"I'm sorry I worried you," Obi-Wan began slowly, "but I just… needed some air. And," he added with a small curve of his mouth, "I think I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

"Of course. I know that, I do. Of course, I do."

"I know you do," he replied, furrowing his brows. "But what is this really about?"

"What?"

"Well, I've never seen the Duchess of Mandalore ramble before." It was a poor attempt at humor, but Obi-Wan hoped it would at least ease a portion of the tension that clung to the couple.

"I'm not a duchess anymore, Obi."

Ever so gently, he brushed a stray lock of golden hair out of her eyes. "You'll always be royalty to me."

She sighed. "It's only… I feel so out of my league here. No, I _know_ I'm out of my league."

"How so, my dear?" Obi-Wan tried for a teasing smile, but he was certain it had fallen short of the desired effect. "I've seen you face off terrorists, Sith Lords, and bounty hunters without batting an eye."

" _I_ wasn't the one facing off with them," she insisted. "And besides, the bounty hunters don't count because you and Qui-Gon took care of the majority of _that_ situation."

"You do yourself a great disservice by talking like that."

"But it's true, is it not?" She broke their gaze. "I don't know how to handle pirates, I don't know what to do if one passes me in the hall and makes some sort of terrible comment. Are they friend or foe? That, I can't even tell anymore. I don't know how to respond; how to—"

"You know how to soothe a baby's cry when I can't," he reminded, circling his thumb across her palms. "You can tell which transports are the safest; the most accommodating for a family on the run. You know how to calm a frazzled husband and quiet a Jedi plagued by night terrors."

Tears welled in her eyes and Obi-Wan knew they stemmed from much more than a ship full of boisterous pirates. Seconds later, she was melting into his chest, resting her weary head against his strong frame.

"Hold me, Obi…" She whispered and he tightened his arms around her trembling shoulders. "Just hold me… Like you did so many years ago when we were simply children caught in a grown-up world."

And he did. He held her until they tired of standing; then he sank to the ground alongside her, his hands never leaving their posts.

Children in a grown-up world. Often, that's how he still felt these days: like a Padawan trying to find his way.

_Well, I'll just have to fix that then. It's certainly no way to start a new life._

And yet, as he huddled close to his love on the floor of that luxurious room, he realized with a pang that he didn't know how.

For as long as he could remember, there had always been a part of him that felt like a lost Padawan and he didn't know how to get rid of it.

_Perhaps… Perhaps it's time I truly began trying to contact Master Qui-Gon…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are enjoying this! Just a heads up, the next chapter might be a little while in coming, but I will give you a tease... Another member of the Kryze family will be making an appearance... ;)
> 
> Also! I have a Spotify playlist for this story if anyone is interested. It’s called Take the World and my username is HarpforHim with a purple and white avatar. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! If anyone has any characters they’d like to see make an appearance at some point, or any plot points or scenes they would like to see, just leave your suggestions in the comments! I’m open to anything. :)


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